


all of us, in time

by Princex_N



Series: making strange with one another [5]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Nonverbal Character(s), Queerplatonic Relationships, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23864881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princex_N/pseuds/Princex_N
Summary: Brian wakes up to a series of surprises. The most surprising of all being that they're not unpleasant ones, for once.
Relationships: Alex Kralie & Jay Merrick & Brian Thomas & Timothy "Tim" Wright, Hoody & Masky
Series: making strange with one another [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711201
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	all of us, in time

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [O'Death's 'Herd'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGOPLEm6cTw)
> 
> This fic contains references to one of my others - [out of body; out of rage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685868) \- not vital to read it but you should still check it out!! I'm writing enough fics to create my own insular version of canon - love that for me

Brian wakes up when he feels someone grab his wrist in the middle of the night and the only thing that keeps him from carrying out the threat his snarling implies is the feeling of his palm settling over someone else's eyes. 

He pulls himself up on his elbow, careful not to jostle any of the people surrounding him, and looks down at Tim - or more accurately, not Tim. There's dried blood smeared over their cheeks where it dripped from their nose - they must have been lying on their side at some point - and a stiff delicacy in the way they hold their body that implies a hurt (Brian would know). Their nails don't dig into Brian's wrist, but their grip still has an edge of desperation to it. 

"Did Tim have a seizure?" Brian asks, and his friend nods in response. Their hands stay where they are, and Brian says, "I won't move my hand." The two of them have done this enough that they probably already know, but it's been a while, and it's good to give reminders when you can. Their hand cautiously lets go of his wrist, and when he doesn't move, they start to sign. 

"Tall?" they ask, and their hands shake. They can't see without their mask - not literally, but effectively enough - and more than that, can't move confidently enough to protect anyone without it. Their concern makes sense, and it's not a bad question, but there's nothing static in Brian's head or in his lungs, and Tim had worked two shifts yesterday. Exhaustion and a missed dose is a lot more likely these days. 

"No," Brian tells them. "Probably just a seizure." Although it is weird that no one had woken up when they'd felt it, not to mention that Tim had gone to sleep on Jay's other side. "Did he go to the bathroom?" Brian guesses, and they nod. Maybe it's more of a miracle that they didn't trip on anyone on their way to Brian's side then - the kitchen light is always on but it's hard to be graceful when you're peering out from between your fingers. 

"Your mask is still here," Brian tells them, and he feels the way they perk up in confused excitement. He kicks his leg back against where Alex is wrapped loose around his back, and earns a snarl that only doesn't result in a fist against his spine because of practice. 

"What?" Alex growls, and Brian's friend goes tense under his hand, but they don't move. Brian smooths his thumb over their brow, but doesn't speak to reassure them yet. 

"Tim's blue bag is in the closet," he says to Alex instead. "I need it." 

"What fucking time is it?" Alex groans, and Brian can tell the moment he sees and understands because he goes rigid still too. "You're joking," he says, tone tense, but more dry humor than anger. 

"Seizure," Brian tells him. "Probably a bad one." 

His friend nods, slow, cautious. They're still as stone where they lay, but Brian can feel the wheezy pants of their breath against his hand. They're scared. "I need the bag," he says again. 

"He kept it?" Alex asks, catching on, and Brian nods. "Does he know you know that?" 

Brian levels a look at him, dry as desert (the paranoia that has Brian digging around in everyone's things is an open secret - like most things around here - there's likely nothing in this apartment that he doesn't know is there, and they all know it. If they had a problem with it, no one would hesitate to pick a fight with him over it, but no one will, and Brian might not stop even if they did). "Alright," Alex says, tone placating, picking his way out from between Brian and Jay without another word. 

A tap on his wrist has Brian looking back in time to see his friend sign, "Liar" with shaky bewildered hands, "Bird?" 

"Both," Brian agrees. He's never sure how much gets shared between the two of them - Tim doesn't seem to get anything, and they're a little different, but it's clearly not enough. "After I-," he pauses, hesitating. 

"Broke," his friend supplies, a low mournful noise spilling from their throat. Had they seen? Or can they just tell? 

"Not your fault," Brian promises, just in case, leaning their heads together. "Just bad luck." It's not Tim's fault either, not really, even if rage and desperation leads to Brian using it in arguments from time to time anyway. 

"What's going on?" Jay slurs from behind him, and Brian grimaces. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but the more people that wake up, the more annoyed Brian can't help but feel. They're not stealing, not really, but it feels like it. 

"Nothing," Brian tells him, but can't find it in himself to be surprised when he feels Jay roll over to peer over his shoulder. 

"What are you-," he breaks off. "Is that...?" 

Brian sighs. "Yeah," he agrees, and doesn't move when he feels his friend anxiously grab a fistful of his shirt when they realize that someone else is looking at them. "Don't worry about it." 

Jay is quiet and tense for a moment, and Brian doesn't fill the silence while he waits to see if Jay is going to pick a fight over this. Waits for Jay's verdict. (They all say that not one of them is 'in charge' but they all know that Jay is anyway, stubborn and small and not afraid to give commands and wield their guilt like a weapon if they don't listen about something he thinks is worth it. Brian might be bitter if he didn't know he'd chosen this too.) 

"Why are you doing that?" Jay asks finally, and Brian supposes that might be as good as it gets. 

"They need the mask," he tells him, "like you with your camera. They get scared without it." 

They twitch at the words, but don't protest. Jay is quiet and Brian turns his head when he feels his friend tug on his shirt. 

"Sorry," they sign once Brian makes a noise to say he's looking. "Bird," they clarify. 

"What is he - they - saying?" Jay asks, more because he's nosy than because he suspects he's being talked about. 

"They're sorry," Brian tells him. "For before." 

"Oh." Jay sounds surprised. Brian supposes it might be warranted. All of them have reached their own agreements, but they rarely involve actual apologies. "Uhm. I forgive you, I think." 

Alex stomps back into the room, mask in hand, and Brian deliberately chooses not to be surprised when Alex skips handing it to him in order to press it into their hands himself. 

They take it with greedy and grateful claws, but hesitate instead of pulling it on, untangling their hand from Brian's shirt to scrub ineffectually at the dried blood on their face. Brian thinks of quiet moments like this, before, when he had insisted on cleaning their face, and feels something like relief crack open in his chest. 

Jay hums a little, and Brian guesses he's still watching, even as Alex crashes obnoxiously back into his space between them on the bed. "I can get a towel," Jay offers, and is already up and in the kitchen before Brian can get a chance to reply. 

The two of them wait in silence, Alex either already asleep or simply not caring enough to ask any of his own questions, and Brian relishes in the familiar and comfortable quiet. His friend smooths their fingers over their mask, pressing against his side to make up for the fact that their hands are too full to hold his shirt. Do they get the full scope of how long it's been since they were awake and present? Their skin is warm and dry under his palm. He'd felt every moment of their absence with a cruel intensity, and missed this more than he would care to admit. 

The night is full of surprises, and they don't seem to be stopping just yet. Jay comes back and asks Brian's friend if he can wipe their face clean himself, and they nod in cautious bewilderment. It had always been just the two of them, because no one else would take them in - they're as new to this as Brian had been, newer even. Brian watches the gentle care of Jay's hands as he wipes away dried blood and drool, and takes note of the hesitant vulnerability of the tilt of his friend's head, and considers it all. 

He hates that it's taken them this long to come back, but maybe they had gotten the timing right with miracle accuracy. He can't imagine anyone responding this well to them any sooner, and knows that their tendency to bite before anyone else gets the chance to hit them first wouldn't have blown over any better. Maybe this just is the best case scenario they could have hoped for. Maybe the wait had been worth the grief. 

The moment their face is clean, they pull their mask on, and Brian slips his hand free and adjusts it when they don't move to do it themself. Jay watches, nosy. They open their eyes to examine Jay right back, a cross between shy and bracing for a blow, and hesitantly signs their thanks. 

"No problem," Jay says once Brian passes it along, whatever assuredness that kept his hands steady fading as he awkwardly tosses the damp paper towel into Brian's trash can and stumbles back to his side of the mattress without another word. 

"Okay?" Brian asks, looking down at them in the calm illusion of being alone again, and they nod before hesitating. 

"Stay?" they ask finally, meeting his gaze through the mask with a matched fervor. 

"Me or you?" 

"Me." 

It's a difficult question. Brian doesn't really have a say it in (Well, he could, but he won't use that option again. If he had any other alternative though, it wouldn't have taken this long for them to come back in the first place), but they all make arguments. Sometimes they even listen to each other. Brian hasn't been willing to crack open his chest to make this one, but with them finally looking at him again, he knows that he could now. 

"I can try to talk to him," Brian says - it's all he'll promise (he doesn't want to let either of them get their hopes up). 

They nod, and Brian knows they understood what he hasn't said, they always do. "I won't break it," they sign, and then rolls onto their side to grab hold of his shirt and press their masked face against his chest - said all they need to say or simply too overwhelmed to continue. 

"I know you won't," Brian says, and knows it's true. Things like them don't fit in with anything other than each other, and that doesn't just have to mean the two of them alone anymore. Brian has had years to never get his hopes up, and months to adjust to the reality that maybe he could chance it. They've had their whole life to never hope, and no time at all to entertain the possibility suddenly within their reach. 

He slings an arm around their waist, and drags them in a little tighter just to feel them relax at the pressure. Buries his face against the top of their head and lets himself ache. He doesn't know how long this will last - he'll enjoy the time he has left with his friend while he can. 

(He knows what their word for _him_ is, even if it's too much for him to think about most of the time. _Brother_. Aching and vulnerable and overwhelming in how well it fits. Maybe, with enough practice, he'll be able to let himself say it back one day.) 

(But he's not getting his hopes up. Not yet, anyway.) 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of first hand experience with a lot of the stuff I write - DID is not one of those things, so if I've managed to bungle something please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it!
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.princex-n.tumblr.com)


End file.
